


take the heat

by peachyteabuck



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Exhibitionism, F/M, Nipple Play, Outdoor Sex, Reader-Insert, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-06 20:20:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16839718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachyteabuck/pseuds/peachyteabuck
Summary: it’s sundress season and you know what that means…





	take the heat

There’s something about you in that pale yellow sundress that always gets to him. Its straps are thin and worn, sometimes falling off your shoulders and down your arm which you’re always (at least in Steve’s opinion) too quick to readjust. It’s just short enough to make his mouth water at the sight of your bare thighs but long enough to be teasing, and - as the cherry on top - you never wear a bra with it. Steve’s always heard “fuck me” dresses described as little black numbers with high stilettos, never as old sundresses you use to signal the coming of a newer, warmer season.

You’re currently sitting out on the porch, light brown sandals toed off and feet resting on another lawn chair pulled parallel to the one you’re occupying. The poetry book in your lap is one you’ve read before - the bent spine and dog-eared pages indicative of it being one of your favorites. It’s that point in the year you love most, where it’s not too hot and not too cold. Occasionally, a breeze will cause you to shiver as goosebumps erupt over your body and your hardened nipples to show.

Pre-serum Steve hated the spring. The pollen triggered his asthma and made his heart and chest ache. Maybe that’s not exactly the kind of thing post-serum Steve has to worry about, but some Pavlovian response always causes him to want to hide inside with all the lights off and all the windows shut, reading some book he stole from a shut-down library two streets away. He tries to cope with that will to self-isolate by cleaning every inch of your house like the fate of the world IS at stake. He’s done it ever since he’s gotten off the ice; it’s actually become an excellent hobby for him. Finding new cleaning products and learning new tricks to get out the particularly hard stains that have made their way onto the grout in the bathroom or keeping his whites white and his darks dark. You, though, you’re quite the opposite. You love the spring - completely adore it, actually. It’s a time for becoming reacquainted to the outside world after being cooped up in your small house all winter, for breathing in the fresh air of a new year, for opening the windows and airing out the stuffy house. For you, spring meant a time of rejuvenation. You may not be clean, but you are cleansed.

The first spring Steve spent with you, he was struck wordless. You had suggested you enjoy a nice date at your local park, and Steve was - needless to say - awestruck. Someone loving the spring?! That was just unheard of! He almost broke up with you then and there, hoping to avoid such events in the future.

Luckily he didn’t. Luckily, he gets to watch your dress slowly ride up your legs and expose the stretch marks on your upper thighs and the lace trim of your (thanks to him) pristine white underwear. As he watches through the cracked-open kitchen window above the kitchen sink filled with dirty dishes, it’s hard to concentrate on the task at hand. All he wants to do is coax you into your chilled room and ravish your body like a queen, not clean the hardening lasagna bits off of plates and silverware.

Steve isn’t normally one to start things. This is something you’ve come to understand, that the serum could fix his asthma, his heart disease, his scoliosis, his color-blindness…but not his self-esteem. It takes what feels like forever for him to put down whatever dish he’s currently cleaning, shut off the water, and dry his hands. It takes another forever for him to step outside. Your head slowly rises as you hear the sound of the sliding glass door open and close, smiling as you greet the face of the man you love most.

“What’s up?” you ask, thinking something’s wrong. Steve never goes outside if he can help it.

He just shrugs, reaching for one of your hands and pulling you to your feet. “Nothing, just wanted to see you.”

You snort, grinning. “You can’t see me from the window?”

Steve pulls you close, then, breathing in the scent of your favorite perfume. “But that’s so far away,” he murmurs into the crook of your neck. Goosebumps shoot up your spine and now, now you get it. Just as you ask if he wants to take this inside, he bites down on your neck hard enough to leave a bruise.

“Fuck,” you moan, grabbing at the waistband of his mouth watering grey sweatpants. He resists a little, but eventually lets you expose his half-hard cock. Slowly, carefully, you push him to sit back in the chair you were just sitting in.

“You really wanna do this out here?” He asks as his lips trail down to your collarbones. You gasp as he leaves nips at your sensitive skin, your cotton underwear flooding and heart racing as it fully hits you how easy it would be for someone to see you. While high trees shield you from neighbors, Sam is supposed to come over later to talk about…

Well, actually, it doesn’t matter what he wants to talk to Steve about. What matters is that he’s probably hoping to have a professional talk with Captain America and instead he’s going to be met with you two fucking like teenagers on your porch.

Steve never mumbles a reply to your question, just moves his strong hands under your flimsy dress to grope at your thighs and ass. You gasp as his fingers rub your clit through your underwear, and moan as he laughs deep in his chest. “You’re so wet, darlin’. This all because of me?”

“God yes,” You whisper. Large flora may stop any of your unsuspecting fellow homeowners from seeing your hedonistic endeavours, they are incredibly poor materials for soundproofing. “It’s all for you, baby.”

Steve smirks as he props you higher up on his lap, straps now fallen down your arms. You know you look absolutely destroyed already - bun falling apart, dress slowly slipping down your chest, face makeup-less and body covered in a thin layer of sweat. You’re an absolute wreck, and Steve doesn’t look much better. You start to stroke him with one hand while you use the other for balance, causing Steve to moan around the nipple he’s sucked into his mouth. Quickly, almost too quickly, he moves your underwear to the side and shoves one, two, three fingers into you.

It’s then when you realize you can’t take it anymore. “Steve,” you hiss.

“Mmm?” He hums around your nipple again. What a fucking tease.

“Just fuck me,” you tell him.

Steve lets go of your abused nipple to kiss your temple, a gesture almost too tender for your heated moment. “With pleasure,” he tells you with a wicked grin. Easily, he guides himself into your wet pussy. With your face tucked into the crook of his neck, he slowly slides in and out of you. One arm goes to the small of your back to guide you and keep you steady, the other flies across your shoulders to keep you in place. You’re overwhelmed in a way you can only describe as exquisite, in a way you’ve never felt before. Every sense, every fiber of your being is filled with Steve - you can smell his favorite kind of Old Spice, you can feel the softness of his favorite, threadbare t-shirt, everytime you go to lick your lips you can taste inklings of his sweat and yours mixed together (not from the perfect eighty degree weather, rather from the heat of yours and his skin). Your eyes are screwed shut, for you fear the mintue you open them and look up you’ll either see a disapproving Sam or Steve’s sex face - one of which will cause you eternal shame and the other of which will cause you to come on the spot.

Steve slowly guides the arm around your shoulder to the middle of your back, while the other snakes between you to rub at your clit. “Come for me, baby. Come for me,” Steve whispers lowly into your ear.

You jam your bottom lip between your teeth hard enough to taste sweet copper, but still, a small moan escapes your lips as your orgasm shoots through you. Soon after, you feel Steve come, too. For a few moments, you both just sit there basking in the afterglow.

“Baby,” you mumble.

“Yeah?” Steve asks.

“You can take us inside?”

Steve laughs a little, then tiredly carries you to the sofa right inside the house where you immediately crash on top of him. You take a few moments to pant, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins. Steve seems cool as a cucumber, lazily kissing at your face and jaw as your chest rises and falls rapidly. The air conditioning makes your dress stick to your skin - but right now you don’t mind. You use the sound of Steve’s breathing and the feeling of his hands in your hair to lull you to sleep.

You lay there with Steve for hours, talking about your favorite spring and summer activities. You’re in the middle of talking about walks through a local park when your front door bursts open.

“Steve, man,” you hear an all-too-familiar voice say. “You will never be-” Sam stops in his tracks. You can’t see him from the angle you’re at on the couch…but he sure as Hell can see you. “What in the fuck is going on in here on this day.”


End file.
